OLD HAUNTS sometimes get pushed to the back of the memory drawer and it's only when you clear out all the clutter that you realise what a long time it's been since you last saw them.
MACBETH WILL never be an old sea dog. Inka, on the other hand, shows no fear of the sea and has so much fun when we go down to the beach that, if I don't keep a eye on him, I believe one day he'll set off to swim to Norway like some homeward-bound Scottish Viking.
THERE ARE lots jokes about sporrans but it was no joke for a friend who thought he would cut a dash and wear his national costume. When he looked out his sporran he found it had become a breeding ground for several families of unidentified and destructive fly. They had set up home inside the pouch and laid eggs which had hatched, and the resultant maggots were happily munching their way in and out of the fur. The sporran looked as though it had taken on a life of its own.
MY FATHER was a great one for taking the side roads to get to wherever he was going. He said it meant driving more slowly and he had more time to look at what was going on. So when I wanted to drive from Edzell to Kirriemuir I didn't hesitate to choose the country route which, as it turns out, is far shorter than going by the main roads.